To Thy Kingdom Come
by Red Cloud Phoenix
Summary: Balian finds himself falling deeper into those large, gray eyes...
1. Prologue

Kingdom of Heaven

Chapter One

My name is Balian d'Ibelin. For most of my adult life I have known nothing but the art of blacksmithing. Here, in Provence, I reside in a small village in southern France. I have lived here all of my life. It is beautiful, with all of the endless fields of flowers that are used to make perfume. In verity, traces of the Garden of Eden are marked in Provence. One can get lost in those fields easily; like two lovers trying to find each other.

The flowers are a popular item much sought after by kings and queens of nobility- all year round. The climate is certainly warm enough. And the soil is so fertile that any plant can begin its life here.

As for us villagers, we know nothing of the luxurious life, but we manage on a daily basis. As for myself, I create weapons out of steel and the like. We are a simple folk. There are three things that we were taught to love: God, your family, and your position, whatever God chose you to be. I loved all of the three things dearly. I loved my wife, Anne, and our son, Luc, more than anything in the world. There is nothing else I needed. I had all that I could wish for.

My recent experiences have given me wisdom. It is as if God took away a piece of my soul, and then restored it again on the grand journey that he sent me on. God has taught me a lot of things. It is by His Will that I live every day now.

I think it is quite funny that a few months ago my whole world seemed to be crumbling. I was torn apart. As I think back on it now I still shiver. Luc, our infant son, had died of disease, and we were still in mourning. Anne wept for days without coming out. At last I gave up on trying to sooth her pain, and I guess that she couldn't take it anymore. One morning I found her wheezing for breath on our bed.

There was only one word that came to my mind.  
Poison.

My legs transformed into rubber. I couldn't move them properly. I ran to her side with uncertainty, not being able to do nothing to ease her pain. I stood there, my soul disintegrating by the second.

"Anne…" My voice was not my own, but a raspy voice of a ghost. Something, some very horrible seed of emotion, was going to explode inside of me within moments. I could feel it.

Looking at me, my wife forced a reassuring smile on her pale face. Her once flaming eyes that used to be so full of life, the eyes that saw the world with me, were taking on a gaunt, sorrowful hue of gray. "I love you, Balian. Always know that. I cannot live when our son has died. If I burn in hell, I will at least die knowing that I died in search of our son's soul. Come, sing to me."

"No…" I couldn't breathe. A huge lump exploded in my throat. I wept bitterly. Anne wiped the tears. I held her in my arms, rocking her, desperately trying to stop the poison from ravaging her body.

"Please, let me go, Balian. I have faith that you will find your strength to go on without me. You can start all over again. Promise me, my love. Now, now, sing to me the songs of the angels."

I nodded to her for the mere hope of keeping her alive, but not to the promise. I couldn't survive without her.

In reply, I began to sing to her. _The road is long, but it will always end. The river flows, always to the great ocean. Winter will pass and spring will come again. _

"Thank you, Balian." I held her hand until all life was out of her.

The poison acted quickly. Shortly afterwards her breath receded. I carried her limp body to the priest. They would bury her the next day, but today I could say my goodbyes.

I gave her one last embrace. I cannot describe my feelings other than that I couldn't bear the loss. God had taken both of the ones that I loved. I wondered why it was in his Will to kill loved ones. A part of me died along with Anne and our son. I would never be the same again. I would also never love again.

_Why did you have to leave me? Haven't I lost enough? I couldn't lose you. I pitied Luc but I couldn't live without you. _

From that day forward I swore to myself that there was no God. God couldn't possibly exist.

For several days, I sulked. I didn't tell anyone my thoughts. I had no one to talk to. That is, until my father, Godfrey of Ibelin, came by unexpectedly, with a mission and a purpose.


	2. Crusaders

Kingdom of Heaven

Chapter Two

It was a bleary spring day. The sky suggested snow, but I knew that it was spring in disguise. Foggier than most springs and bleak as usual, I worked at the blacksmith's shop. I hated it- life went on as if nothing had happened. Anne was only a mere memory, a thing of the past, nothing more than a nonentity.

The brisk morning air didn't affect me. I was warm from the fire by my side. My eyes were bloodshot from too many tears. Too many tears. I didn't have anything more to cry about. _She is gone. Forever. _I told myself. Yet, I could never accept it. In my mind, she was still alive _inside_ of me. As long as I stayed alive, Anne would never die. She was a part of me. The day she left me, a part of me deteriorated, too.

The villagers look to me with frightened faces. They whisper, but I can still hear their mockery. _There is the suicide's husband! He still loves her while she has gone to Hell! _I ignore them easily, for they did not know my wife. How can you talk about someone you did not know at all? Despite my anger, I understand her. Her life ended when our son died. But the villagers… they would say it was God's will.

To be _damned_ with them.

Is there really a God who kills innocents?

My wife was very beautiful. She had sweet, loving eyes that would calm even the worst of storms. And she loved me. Can a woman with such a pure love in her heart be guilty of any crime? Bless her soul. Do they not see that she was overtaken by grief?

My ears picked up the sound of galloping horses. A group of wild horses, perhaps. Then, I hear a voice cry, "The Crusaders are coming!"

What would they possibly want? More people to fight in the Crusade? Our small village seldom had visitors. Out of all the towns in France, why would they be looking for able-bodied men in our village?

The sound of horses got louder, a constant thumping on the earth. I glanced up. On my left, there was a band of soldiers; all weary from war, bodies bulky of muscle from having fought with a sword for too long. The leader of the group, the eldest, examined my face. I wondered why. Another soldier, lean and lanky, began,

"Our horses need new horseshoes. Would you be kind enough, good blacksmith, to give them to the horses?"

I nodded. I hammered the newest shoes to their hooves. Meanwhile, the two knights spoke to each other. None of my concern. What business did I have with knights, anyway? I was but a humble blacksmith. My home was in France. This is where I would stay. I wasn't noble enough to be a knight. If they should ask for my allegiance to God in quest for the Holy Land, I knew that I would refuse.


	3. Fires of Hell

Kingdom of Heaven

Chapter Three

I stared long and hard, eyes hardened to stone. He studied me with his cool, benign eyes, the matching color of the clouds. His look was of polite friendliness. He made my heart of ice melt little by little. On his face, I sensed slight fear, but it was quickly overridden by curiosity. Maybe even hope. What was it that he was searching for?

"I am sorry you lost your wife and child," he began, sounding sympathetic. "I know that you are wondering about me, where it is that I came from and what I came here for. The truth is, Balian, I knew your mother. I loved her, with a great passion. Balian, please look at me."

There was a pause. His words rolled once more in my head. _I knew your mother. I loved her, with a great passion. _Almost beyond my will, I remembered. I remembered the days of my childhood. I see my mother, her young face fatigued by labor, telling me stories of long ago.

It was a chilly spring day, very much like this one. I ask my mother the one question that has never been answered, the one thing she never speaks about. I know this. I know how her face turns cold, how she makes up excuses all the time. Yet, this time I have an urge to know the truth. Some of my naiveté has passed. This time, made up lies simply aren't enough.

I had been playing with the village children that day. I came home feeling unaccepted. An alien, they called me.

_Why must we be peasants? Why can't we live like everyone else in France? They don't need to work. They don't have a king to serve. _

My mother's face is stern.

_We were born to be servants. What can we do? _

_But I don't want you to work. I want to go with you to faraway places. _

Mother only smirks. _Oh, Balian, sometimes your imagination soars to the heavens! _

The humor lingers for a while longer. As peasants, we need all the humor we can get by. Otherwise our minds would be empty and our spirits low. The past remark made by the village children angered me. _Where is your father, Balian? People say that he was a bad man. _

Close to tears, I would answer, _That is not true! _But then, I would have no proof to prove them all wrong, which sent all the children running away roaring with laughter.

_Who is my father? _At this, my mother doesn't seem to hear. The corner of her mouth tightens slightly, but that is all.

_How many times do I have to tell you, Balian, that your father is dead? He died when he went out to battle. This was before you were born. His name was Godfrey._

That was probably the most she ever talked about my father. Either she didn't want me to know about him, or she didn't know who he was.

_Who was he? _My endless rants do not get me anywhere closer to the answer, although I do finally learn what he did.

_Your father was a soldier. A knight. _

Knight. My father was a knight. Everything, all the pieces of the puzzle I have been trying to fit together ever since I can remember, all made sense to me.

Silence. "Balian, I am your father. You are my only son. Say something. Anything. All I ask is your forgiveness. I have committed terrible sins. I have spent the last twenty years trying to rid myself of them in the Holy Land."

I snorted. "My father? Do you speak verity, man, for my father has been dead since I was born? If you really are my father, prove it to me by telling me the truth behind his disappearance. If not, then I must be sensing a dead man's soul. I have lost my sanity since my family has left me."

He looked at me gravely, all of my burdens thrust onto his shoulders a thousand times over. "I left for the Crusade, many years ago. I left your mother to do so. Since then, she has hated me. I am sorry, son. Some wounds can never be mended. I am Godfrey, the Baron of Ibelin. I offer you a chance of redemption, if you choose to join the Crusade. We are headed for the Holy Land; Jerusalem, where even the deadliest of sins can be forgiven. It is a place of hope, Balian."

My feelings were left unchanged. I would never forgive him. Ever. After the pain he caused my mother, after all those years that made me feel empty and lonely, being the only one in the village who didn't have a father, I couldn't forgive him. I had received more pity than a child should.

I turned slowly, walking out of Godfrey's way.

"If you don't come with us now, we will never return again. I am leaving the decision up to you."

"No," I said sternly. "My home is here. I will not leave. I pray that you will have a safe journey to the Holy Land. Farewell."

"I understand, Balian. Her passing is hard to accept. And your son was too young to die. But death is always occurring, Balian. One day, you are going to have to let go."

I wanted to scream at him then. _How can I forget them! They were my world, Godfrey, they were the reason I lived. My family was the reason I laughed, the reason I breathed in this world! They are dead now! Gone from me for all eternity! And you expect me to _let go! _You do not know what it is like to know that everything you need is there, and then losing everything that you have ever known. Everything. I am a dead man now, Godfrey. What you are speaking to is a ghost image. A man called Balian is no more!_

"You have my final word. I will stay. I have no business traveling to foreign lands. I am a blacksmith. And I shall stay a blacksmith."

Godfrey gave a nod, bid farewell, and mounted on his horse. "It's too bad you didn't decide to come with us, son. You may perhaps never see me again. It was good to see you." With a smile that signaled our parting of the ways, the band of knights rode off into the far, uncharted land.

Night fell. I worked extremely late that night. For a while I must have fallen asleep. Sleep was not the answer to my troubles. I would awake, drenched in a cold sweat, in a state of delirium. A thick haze would clog my mind. In my dreams, I heard the distant, unreal sound of a baby in the middle of the night… Anne's eyes red from lack of sleep, her singing lullabies in her desperate attempt to quiet the baby.

_The road is long, but it always ends. The river flows, but always to the great ocean. Winter will pass and spring will come again._

Luc. And then, when at long last, the baby fell asleep, we slept in each other's arms.

The blisters on my hands split and bled again. The sudden sound of footsteps made me jump.

"Who goes there?" I asked, alarmingly.

"It is I, the priest," A voice came in the dark. Good. The priest had come to preach me about the importance of my faith.

"I am sorry for your loss." The words, fresh from the day of the funeral when I first heard them not three days ago, stirred nothing in me. I was immune to sympathy.

"Your wife was a pitiful case of suicide. She has gone to hell, don't you see? I know that the pain you are feeling now is the very flames that are burning Anne in hell. I can hear her, Balian, screaming for mercy. Save the poor child. There is a way, Balian. Listen to me, the words of the Holy Father, to go to the Holy Land. There you will find mercy. Perhaps even rebirth…"

I was not listening. I saw my wife, clinging to ember, and I burned. The fire spread throughout my entire body until I felt like I was being burned alive. I roared in despair. I had to get rid of the flame that was destroying me. The word of the priest was destroying me. This man of god, patron of our village, believed to know the Word of God Himself, was speaking filthy words that contained the fires of Hell within them…and it drove me insane. Out of my mind. Before I could stop myself, I picked up the iron rod still hot from the fire, piercing the priest in the heart. He burned. My body was beginning to cool down already.

"AAAAAAAHHHHH!" The priest finally felt the fire that had consumed me. Now, my wife was to be avenged. Her conscience cleared of all sin. For our love transcended all of Heaven and Earth to something greater… something that couldn't be put into words. Glory and triumph do not last long. Guilt came to me. I had murdered the priest. A sin punishable by death. Trepidation came over me, and I mounted the horse tied up outside and rode to the forest. Godfrey wouldn't be too far. I would still be able to catch him.


	4. Hands of Love

Kingdom of Heaven

Chapter Four

Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom of Heaven; they are solely the property of 20th Century Fox and Scott Free Productions. All of the original characters were researched and thought of by Ridley Scott and William Monahan.

Author's Note: I am extremely upset that this film isn't doing so well internationally and domestically!

**M**y hand was swelling beneath the makeshift bandage I had wrapped around it. The wound still stung; the constant reminder of my faults. At the edge of the woods, I was lucky enough to find Godfrey and his comrades setting up camp in the middle of nowhere.

"I have come. I changed my mind. I will join you in the Crusade," I said, so that dimples of a primitive smile showed on Godfrey's face. "Very well, then, Balian," was his simple reply. Seeing my wound, the smile quickly vanished, replaced by a look of concern on his timeless face. "Why does a skillful blacksmith with doubtless deftness suffer from a hand wound?"

I winced for a moment at the thought of my wrongdoing. "I have done…murder." I would have expected anger. Disappointment, maybe. But his expression was solemn understanding. "Haven't we all," he commented.

Is it true that in Jerusalem I can erase my sins?" Godfrey sat there, pondering upon my question. "Is it true?" I repeated.

"After all my years of fighting in the Crusade, the hope of finding forgiveness is what drove me. Did it give me faith? Yes. Do I know if God has forgiven me? No. But I think, Balian, we can find out together.

Godfrey glanced over to my wound. His smile vanished. "Why does a blacksmith with doubtless deftness of the hand suffer from a hand would? Come, show me your hand."

Unwillingly, I stretched my wrist outward with a rag wrapped messily around it. Godfrey unraveled the cloth, ever so gently, putting on the dried blood a thick paste of herbs. The medicine soothed the sting. Godfrey's hands were very large, like a giant's, the hands of a loyal knight who had held the sword uncountable times. Those hands had probably been through blisters, blood, mud, and endless troubles. Those hands had achieved holiness for the King.

My hatred for this man had vanished with the wind. Gone, too, was the bitterness I had toward him only hours ago. A new, calmer emotion filled me- respect and gratitude for Godfrey. Seeing him like this; face weary from war, seeming tired from too many travels, somehow made me feel sorry for him. I imagined him, in the days before I was even on this earth, kissing my mother, loving her.

Those hands had caressed my mother, so many years ago. Had he comforted her? Made her promises? Smiled at the thought of me inside her? Made names for me before he had gone?

Godfrey's healing hands reminded me of my mother so much. So soft and gentle they were. _This is the man who my mother kept hidden from me,_ I thought. I felt a connection with him. The fact that he had known my mother was enough.

His hands were caring for my hands as he might have held my mother's when she was afraid. I felt a sharp pang of nostalgia in my stomach. My mother had died her own peaceful death the past year. Now I felt closer to her. Godfrey, whom I hadn't known for my entire life, seemed closer to me.

There is a corner in every man's mind that can see the unseen. Through closed eyes, one can enter a world of magical wonders of the world. _Your_ world- what you made of it. This time, though, there was no need to close my eyes. For my mother was already there, in the winding road in front of us, strolling in the golden fields of wheat. She was forever young, and beautiful. There, in the fields of gold, I saw my mother, Marie, and Godfrey holding hands in the old days. They were happy in my world, bonded through the strength of love. A strong young man and pretty young woman smiled back at me, and then the vision began to unfurl. The golden fields of autumn changed back to the icy, barren early spring.

_He loves me. Godfrey loves me because I am his son. _

"There you are, that should heal in no time. Rest now. We have much to do in the morning."

I nodded, took the blanket he handed me, and settled down on the floor to sleep. Before I feel into a deep sleep, I, for the first time in my life, thanked my father. I thanked him for being my father, for being alive all this time.

Godfrey, the Baron of Ibelin, husband of Marie, father of Balian in this town of Provence, in the country of France. My father.

_Father. _


	5. A New World

Kingdom of Heaven

Chapter Five

Note: I only write about Kingdom of Heaven for amusement purposes. The movie is under copyright of Twentieth Century Fox, Scott Free Productions, directed by Ridley Scott, written by William Monahan. Please note that the quotes are from the movie!

"_Balian, where are you?"_

_My wife's voice is afraid. Very, very afraid, although I do not know why. Inside our home, there is darkness but for a small, flickering candle flame. I pick up the burning candle to light my way toward Anne. She needs me. _

"_I'm coming, sweetheart." _

"_I can't see you…"_

_Her voice is getting closer. I follow the echo of her voice as my guide as to her whereabouts. She is very near._

_At last, the candlelight unveils the darkness, illuminating the outline of Anne's visage. "I was afraid I would never find you," she whispers, her scorn turning into a sweet smile. _

"_It's alright, my love. I'm here now, and I'm not going anywhere. I'll always be beside you."_

_I wrap my arms around her in an embrace, but I have nothing to hold, for as soon as I hug her, she is gone. Her body substance has vanished away into nothing. "Anne!" I scream her name, but she doesn't answer. Her smile is frozen in time. My own voice is muted. In front of my eyes, she is transforming. Her ghastly face turns to stone. She has transformed from human to angel. My angel. My life. _

"_I am here. I am real. I will be with you forever. I promise. Say you love me. Say that you'll protect me. I need you."_

"_Yes. I promise." I do not know if her voice is real or not, but I answer it. _

_Anne is then thrust into the cold, hard ground. She is dead. Gone. I hold her hand tight, but a stronger force is pulling her apart from me. _

"_I promise…" _

_With one last word, she lays down to rest. There is a blinding flash of light, then darkness once more. _

I awoke from the nightmare. I awoke screaming Anne's name. On my forehead I could feel beads of cold sweat. It had felt so real, not a dream. I had for once believed that Anne had sprung back to life. What had the dream meant? Was she in heaven? Or was she trying to say something to me in hell?

_Say you love me. Say that you'll protect me. I need you._

Her voice rang clear. She was asking me to help her. To help her erase her sins, perhaps, so that she may be accepted in the Lord's Kingdom. I had promised her in my dream that I would release her soul.

"Get up, Balian. A day starts early for a knight. How's your hand?"

"It is getting better, Father."

"That's good to hear. You will need your hands today." Godfrey then dropped a long, silver sword at my side. It landed with a pleasant _clank_. I picked it up.

"Come, let us see what you are made of."

Godfrey banged his sword against mine. I was quick to dodge it. My years as a blacksmith had me trained for swordplay. Godfrey struck again, I dodging it yet again.

"You fight well," he commented. In split seconds, he pushed his sword against mine.

"The blade isn't the only part of the sword."

This was no ordinary knight.

My ears picked up the trail of horses. Two men trotted to our camp. He looked like a local villager. A chill ran down my spine.

"We have come to take Balian of Ibelin. He has committed a murder."

I stood up, willing to accept my penalty. "Father…I have told you before."

Godfrey's serious expression returned. He was deep in thought.

"I suppose you do. But mind you, he is going to Jerusalem with me. I understand he has committed a deadly sin… but he is my son, and I beg you to pardon him."

"Father, they have the right to take me." I spoke tentatively. It might be the last time I would ever be talking to him again.

"_Papa…" _Godfrey looked so solemn, lost, broken, but nevertheless he stayed strong. He never lost his stance.

"Hush. No more will be spoken about this. Gentlemen, I have made my choice. He stays here with me, understood?"

"But, good man, whether he is your son or not, he's a murderer. Do you think that that stain of taking another man's life- the _priest's-_ will ever wash out of him? Hm?"

"He has a _chance." _He then withdrew his sword from his belt, ready as ever for combat. I merely had a moment to breathe before battle began.

The men responded with a salvo of arrows, piercing the air like angry wasps. I did my best to defend my life. I managed to kill a few. Our men fought bravely, but I saw a few of them fall in battle.

I struck a man in the stomach. I swerved my head around. My father stumbled, revealing an arrow piercing his rib.

It happened so fast- it was all a blur.

"Father!" I screamed. The battle was soon over. The raiders rode away in silence. One of their swords touched my head.

Standing up, I followed Hospitaler into the tent.

"Is he going to be alright?" It was my first question that evening. Hospitaler looked grim.

"We will see about that, Balian. It's a more serious wound than I thought."

I watched in horror as Hospitaler removed the arrow from my father's body. His face was drenched in sweat, and he whimpered in pain.

Soon, the arrow was out. "Please…give me some more wine." He sounded so weak, no longer the strong Godfrey from before.

"He might live. There is still a chance that he may live." Hospitaler patted me on the shoulder.

"Thank you," I replied.

Despite the excruciating pain, Father forced a weak smile.

"I'm glad to have you here with me, my son."

I nodded. "Balian, there is a chance I might not heal fast enough to go to Jerusalem with you."

"Then I will go myself."

"Yes, you must go to Jerusalem yourself. Why? You are the new Baron of Ibelin now. I have served the King of Jerusalem. I owned the land of Ibelin. It is yours now. You must be there in my place to protect the people." He spoke softly.

"Do not speak so much, Father. You must rest."

"I am fine, Balian. Do not worry about me. Take care of yourself." Godfrey insisted. "Do you know what lies in the end of Crusade?"

It was a random question; I hadn't expected him to talk about it. His face lit up at the talk of it.

"There is a new, better world that rests in the future. There, you are not what you were born, but what you have it in yourself to be. There will be a kingdom of conscience- peace instead of war, love instead of hate. That, Balian, is what is called the Kingdom of Heaven." He paused for breath.

"Such a world is forgotten, Father." I answered stiffly.

"I know you have lost your faith recently. I am deeply sorry. What else can I say; no one can feel your pain. They can only imagine it. But you mustn't let your sorrow consume you, hide you from the world. You must learn to break free…Balian, this is a very important mission. Do not disappoint me." He paused. "Come, help me up. I must give you something for your journey."

"No, father, you are too ill to do anything…"

"I have been through worse situations, boy, now do as I ask of you."

I then supported my father's weight. He climbed out of bed with some effort. Leaning over at the table, he lifted a sword. "Kneel," he ordered.

I obeyed, for I knew I was being knighted.

"Earlier on, I asked Hospitaler to bring this in for me. This is the sword that I pass onto you. It is a fine sword, and it'll be your friend during wartime, or if a situation may arise that you may need to use it. It is the token of your knighthood. Cherish it."

"This is a solemn oath. You are to obey it fully, without any question. Understand? Be without fear, in the face of your enemies. Be brave and upright that God may love thee. Speak the truth, always, even if it leads to your death. Safeguard the helpless and do no wrong. That is your oath." He then knelt down and slapped me hard across the face. It stung for two seconds, and the pain was gone.

"That is so you remember it. Rise, a knight!" I took the sword with too hands and stood up. "Protect the people of Jerusalem. Always remember that that is your number one priority."

I blew out the burning candle by his bedside table. The world was dark again. I saw no flame of hope, no future, just a grim, bleak present. I thought of what my wife had said to me when she came to me in the dream. To promise her that I would protect her. She was talking to me from hell…a message to save her.

How could I? I wanted so much to go help her, free her soul… would going to Jerusalem and fighting for God's land really send her to heaven?

There were no answers; only silence in the darkness.


	6. To Jerusalem

Kingdom of Heaven

Chapter Six

Note: I only write about Kingdom of Heaven for amusement purposes. The movie is under copyright of Twentieth Century Fox, Scott Free Productions, directed by Ridley Scott, written by William Monahan. Please note that the quotes are from the movie! Any plot changes are the decision of the author, please remember.

As always, reviews are greatly appreciated.

Summary: Balian is the only survivor of a shipwreck off the coast of some desert. There, he meets an unexpected man who will take him to the Holy City. In the Holy City, he finds an exotic world, and Sibylla. (Mwahahahahah.)

Chapter Six

**Godfrey's P.O.V.**

**I **knew my boy from the moment I saw him. There was no need to question anything. He looks so much like his mother. He has got my strength, I can tell. He has his mother's eyes that shimmer with vitality, at the same time they are serene, like white foam that collects by the beach. He has the rough hands of a blacksmith, yet I can sense tenderness underneath. It was like looking at an image of myself; this child that had grown into a man in just twenty short years.

Oh, how time flies. Twenty years seemed like a long stretch of time, yet here I am, reflecting on those wasted years. Once the years pass by, they contain no amount of time, only memories.

I regret all those wasted years. I wish I had been there for my son when he needed me. The last I had said to his mother was, "I will come back. I promise." I had even told her that I loved her. What use were those empty words now? Marie was dead. No chance to say goodbye. I had said goodbye to her for the first and last time, twenty years ago.

I am glad that the boy is safe. I worry about him more than I worry about myself. I am a fast healer, nothing hurts me much. I've been through worse pain. An arrow through my body to save Balian, his life is all that matters.

I hope with all of my heart that he makes a safe journey to the Holy City.

**Balian's P.O.V**

**I **slowly opened my eyes after what felt like blindness. I squinted at the bright desert sunlight. Where was I?

Slowly, I recalled what had happened. Everything started to make sense as I scrutinized the dead bodies around me. Lifeless, like a tangle of dry seaweed on the shore. Not one body moved, made a sound. Yet I was alive.

There had been a storm at sea. I had probably passed out from the exhaustion. It was a miracle I had survived.

I crawled on my knees, finding the canteen of water of a dead man. I took it from him, draining the water that was left inside. My throat was parched. There was also a black horse neighing quietly. We were the only survivors.

I went to go catch it. I needed to get out of here.

The horse bucked, no matter how gently I stroked its mane. He was strong and healthy, but he wouldn't last long in this desert heat.

_It's just you and me, my friend._

He ran off, the rope slipping out of my fingers. Gone.

I crawled some more until I reached a stream of water. I drank it thirstily, soaking my face with it until I felt cool again. The scorching heat made me dizzy.

In the distance, a yell startled me. Two natives on horseback. It was an Arab and his proxy, perhaps. His words rolled out of his mouth like gibberish.

"He says that you are on his land," The proxy claimed. The Arab did not look happy at all. "He says that you have taken his horse."

I was exhausted, hungry, and in no mood for disputes. I grumbled, "The horse is mine. I pulled it out from the sea!"

I watched as the proxy translated this into their own language. It didn't appease our dispute. "He wants you to give up the horse now, or fight."

"No," was my immediate answer. I disliked violence of any sort, but I was beginning to feel like defending myself.

There was a silence. They seemed to be waiting for our duel. Carefully, hesitantly, I withdrew the shiny sword that my father had presented me.

Seeing the weapon, the Arab came forth. I struck at him until blood trickled down his body, and he was lying dead for the vultures to pick at. The proxy looked at me with wistful eyes. "Kill me. Just do it. Get it over with."

I couldn't. He wasn't the one who had wanted to steal my horse, after all.

"Take me to Jerusalem." We both mounted on our horses, and I let him lead the way to the Holy City.


	7. In My Heart

Chapter Seven

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Kingdom of Heaven; the film is solely the property of Twentieth Century Fox and Scott Free Productions. All original characters, plot, and dialogue were thought of, researched, and written by Ridley Scott and William Monahan based on history.

Balian reached Jerusalem…guess who he encounters?

**T**he Holy City at last. For twenty years it is as if I were blind. Having never lived beyond my small village in Provence, I was totally unfamiliar with such a big city as Jerusalem. I recall grand castles, buildings that resembled thresholds of ancient myth, holy places built to honor Allah. Sand dunes replaced my idea of land-soil and green plants. The weather was hotter. The trees were of tropical origin.

I was a foreigner indeed.

I got lost in the allure of the marketplace. There were more people there than I had seen in my entire life, yet I felt calm here. I was strangely attracted to the noise and chaos. Wandering, I searched for aid from whoever was willing to give it. I came across an old man who obviously possessed wisdom beyond his years. He had quite an approachable, benign face. He examined my visage with innocent curiosity, nothing more.

"Old man, where is the hill that Christ was crucified?"

He pointed with certainty to a majestic hill, which, in the distance, looked like Heaven itself.

I nodded my thanks and began my climb up that hill. No matter what the circumstances, I needed answers…this was the only way to be closest to my wife, and hopefully God.

Step by step, I carefully made it up the hill. By the time my journey of a thousand steps had ended, soreness shot through my legs. The hill I was standing on was my reward. The cross seemed to mark Christ's presence forever. In his death, there had been new life. So why was there nothing but death around me?

My cross in hand, the very cross that had once been Anne's, I knelt down on my knees and began my prayers.

_Please, God…I know that you do not tolerate suicides, but my wife does not deserve to spend eternity in hell. She has always been the light of my life. I wish for her to shine in her afterlife. She loved me truly, and her sin was an act of desperation. To protect her cross, I have also committed a deadly sin, which I hope will be forgiven if I fight for you in the Holy Land. I want her to rest in peace. I ask for your forgiveness above all else. I beg of you to end this living hell for me, help me live without her. Amen._

I stayed there for hours, until the daylight waned and the world turned dark. I traced the outline of her cross, with a slight hope that it'll bring me closer to her. If only, if only…

Lovingly, I placed a deep kiss on the necklace. _Anne, I don't know if you can hear me, but I hope I can still kiss you through this cross. I don't know what's real anymore, only my undying love for you stays true. How can you be in hell, when you're in my heart? I love you, Anne. Come back to me. _

Empty words, they were, but I still believed. Tears streaming down my face, I buried the priceless jewel in the earth. Her spirit would be here always. This was her proper resting place. Here she would be safe, no longer in my arms but protected by this sacred ground, bound in holiness.

_Goodbye, my beloved. For you my heart still beats._

I was then led to the king's castle. As the new Baron of Ibelin, I was to look after the land and serve the king of Jerusalem, the King Baldwin. I know that my father served him in the past in the Crusade Wars, it was now my time.

First, I explored the courtyard of his dwelling. I was interrupted by and abrupt intrusion. If I wasn't mistaken, it was a native woman on horseback. A wealthy one, no doubt. She wore a bright orange tunic around her head and an elaborate robe that expressed her social status.

She sped through the entrance like the wind, a bold entrance. At first glance I knew that she was strong, independent. I admired her mutually.

"Give me some water," she demanded. I, being the one to stand beneath her feet, and being the first one she laid eyes on, handed her a bowl of water from the well, all the time entranced by her beauty. As I handed her the water, my hands turned cold and prickly all over.

"Thank you for the drink," she said courteously. "If you see Balian, son of Godfrey, tell him that Sibylla called." With that, she sped off again, strong as a man, as delicate as any woman.

The name stayed in my mind. Sibylla. Sibylla. She was looking for _me_? Who would she want with a man like _me_? I was poor, my occupation was a blacksmith.

Still, I couldn't wash that face; that name out of my head. Her eyes had reflected the dancing light from the sun, shining. She was a dark, unique beauty.

Absolutely beautiful. For a moment, I was in an aura of light, the first light since my wife's death.


	8. Unexpected Encounters

Chapter Seven

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Kingdom of Heaven; the film is solely the property of Twentieth Century Fox and Scott Free Productions. All original characters, plot, and dialogue were thought of, researched, and written by Ridley Scott and William Monahan based on history.

Note: Sorry that this chapter was too short! I haven't seen the movie more than once, so I struggled to remember what happened even with the little that I had! Forgive.

Balian dines like a nobleman, is insulted by Guy de Lusignan, and meets Baldwin.

The moment I stepped into the King's chamber, I frowned inside. I didn't show it on my face, as to not offend the king in any way.

His face was hidden behind a silver mask. Was it possible that this king was a leper? The mask itself gave off an extremely curious expression: sadness, mockery, and despair molded into the silver.

I had barely made noise in the room, yet Baldwin turned his head to face me. He was busy writing something at his desk. His illness had not lowered his spirits, which surprised me.

"Ah, you are Balian, son of Godfrey, I expect?"

"Yes, my king." I bowed my head.

"No need to bow to me. I knew your father well. He was one of my greatest teachers. It is an honor to meet you at last. Where's your father?"  
"He didn't travel with me, my lord. He was injured in a raid back in France. He was too ill to make this journey."  
"I see. I hope that he feels better soon. He is a very good man, your father. I knew him almost my whole life. When I was sixteen, I felt so…alive, like I was going to live to be a hundred. Now they say I won't live to see thirty. A man truly has no power over his fate."

I listened, not finding it necessary to say anything.

"Illness and other handicaps may come at you in life, but those obstacles can never chain a man's mind and soul."

I nodded.

"Very well, then. I think it is time for you to meet Tiberias. He is a very good friend of mine."

"I am Tiberias. I knew your father well. You are your father's son; he was my friend. I am yours." He gave an all-knowing smile. Perhaps he saw a resemblance of my father in me.

"What has your father told you of your obligation?"

"That I was to be a good knight."

"You are here to serve the King. He is running out of trustworthy people, Balian."

"What would the king ask for from a man like me?"

"You keep the peace, as your father worked hard to do. Being a knight is not an easy job. You'll mature and grow as time passes. And as for the redemption you seek, I am deeply sorry for what happened to your family. You will find redemption here, I trust."

I nodded. I was determined to do so, the clear the lurid past that still haunted me. I was going to put an end to it.

Our conversation was coming to an end, yet I felt a need to ask this one question.

"Does the king have leprosy?"  
Tiberias nodded gravely. "You thought correctly, Balian of Ibelin. His condition is so bad that he needs to wear that mask. I pity him. His days are dwindling."

Tiberias looked worried. He shook it off in an instant.

"Come, enough of serious talk. Have you dined?"

I instantly sprang up from my chair, for I had forgotten my hunger.

I had never seen such an extravagant dining room, with so many people in it. Neither had I seen so many dishes on one table. Politely, I sat down in the seat that I was assigned without saying a word.

Slowly, the room began to fill up. Men dressed in fine silk robes joined me and Tiberias. Without warning, the noise in the room declined. Instinctively, I knew that noble people would soon be joining us to eat our supper. I didn't think that the King would come at a public gathering, and his queen, if he had one, wouldn't come out to dine alone.

I was at a loss of words when I saw who came in. The woman I had seen earlier in the courtyard, and the man I had met by the port. His name was…

_Guy de Lusignan._

He had humiliated me, mocked me and my bloodline, and I hadn't forgotten the incident. My blood boiled in my veins. The two people I had least expected to be married were in front of me; the marriage I couldn't have dreamed of in my wildest imagination. They didn't seem suitable for each other.

The dinner was an uncomfortable experience. It was all too obvious that Sibylla and Guy had an unstable marriage. She closed her eyes in despair when the man tried to caress her. At the same time, I felt her eyes on me. For the second time in one day.

When I had finished, I didn't expect Sibylla to escort me into my chamber.

"Do you fear being with me?" She narrowed her eyes and spoke in a childlike manner. This woman could even sense my thoughts.

Hesitantly: "No, and yes."

Her laughter echoed across the hallway.

"The queen in my place has two faces. One for the world, and one which she keeps in private. With you, I'll be only Sibylla. Tiberias judges me as unpredictable. I _am_ unpredictable."

Bowing to her slightly in farewell, I watched as she turned, and made her way to her bedchamber, floating on air.

She left me with a cryptic smile that kept me up all through the night.


End file.
